After the Fall of Night
by Azphreal
Summary: Yes, bad name. Haven't thought of one yet. Anyway, a thousand years after the end of the Mallorean, the world is paved for revolution, and Belgarath finds out that the Prophecy of the Universe didn't tell them everything. A new Child of Light must rise.
1. Prologue

Alright, let's go. I'm not normally one for fanfics, preferring originals mostly, but I read a few David Eddings fanfics and thought of a few good ideas for one. Lo and behold, this happened. So then, bear with me. This is a short chapter for the moment because I just wanted to establish the basis of the story; what's happened, where everything's at, etcetera. Pretty much, late 1800s to early 1900s, when the majority of technological revolution happened.

For the first time in hopefully many chapters, I say that, sadly, none of the Belgariad or Mallorean, including characters, themes and ideas, belong to me, except for the plot and any original characters.

Updated on 16/03/12. I just added a little more to some of the changes.

Updated again on 17/03/12. Fixed dates and titles.

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Belgarath, the Eternal Man, Ancient and Beloved, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and married to a wolf, sat reading idly through the Mrin Codex. Even though the book had sometimes made him do everything short of destroy it in frustration, it had never lied and it had guided his path true and clear.

Now, because of the obliteration of the Dark Prophecy some thousand years ago, it was just a useless bit of parchment recalling past events in an archaic tone.

Those thousand years had been kind to the world, both in the East and the West. Eriond had convinced the Angaraks not to kill Alorns anymore, and there existed a strong truce between the Alorn kingdoms and Mallorea, forged by Belgarion and Zakath, two of the most powerful rulers in history. Urgit's secret had been let loose, and bonds between Aloria and the Murgo kingdoms had strengthened, and the previously-weak monarch even kept his soldiers from others' throats.

The wars in Arendia quieted down a bit after Belgarion had put his foot down – quite forcefully – a few times, and convinced the northern Tolnedrans to find another pastime than supplying weapons to destroy peace. Prince Keldar and his associate, a scraggy Nadrak named Yarblek, succeeded in becoming the world's richest men and even held the title for a dozen or so years before the investments were passed to Keldar's two children. The fortune still is passed through the family, each generation being taught to make money, from money.

In more recent years, there had been several dozen changes of monarchs on the thrones of each nation, and three changes in dynasty in Tolnedra – the Borune dynasty died with Varana's son, and the golden mantle of the emperor was passed to the Vorduvians. They ruled until 5433, when their last ruler passed the mantle to the Honethites, and they left the throne to the Borunes again in 5801. Now, in 6386, Ran Borune XXXIV industrialised Tolnedra, not far behind the economic Sendarians – probably because Tolnedra tried to swindle ideas out of people instead of coming up with them themselves.

The last few hundred years had definitely been interesting. With the advancement of technology, a compound formed by mixing stone and a few other things formed a substance commonly known as cement, and this paved just about every road in the West, as far as Belgarath knew. A certain powder was discovered to have been particularly ignitable, and the invention of firearms came into the world – long iron barrels with a trigger release, igniting the powder and launching a small steel ball.

Asturians, being well-known for their marksmanship, eventually abandoned their bows for the superior firearms.

Although these firearms, known as guns, weren't entirely safe to other human beings, they were mostly used for hunting.

Because of all this industrial revolutionising, wood was being burned at an increasingly fast rate, and the northern forests of Gar og Nadrak disappeared in about two hundred years of intensive wood-cutting. The Dryads of Tolnedra defended their territory with a vengeance, however, and it was almost impossible to travel through their animosity; the (Great Forest) became known as a death-trap for all who entered. Although they kept good relations in the past with the Borune dynasty of Tolnedra, their logging industries destroyed that relationship.

The Algars, despite the newer forms of transport quickly being formed, such as the first flying machines of history, stuck adamantly to their horse-breeding, and still out sped anything on land, a fact they were quite proud of. Belgarath had observed a few subdued experiments conducted on the plains, however, that showed that they _did_ take a mild interest in the flying contraptions.

And the Sendars; strong, unwavering and resourceful. Although they still farmed for the staples of modern life, like wheat, grain, poultry and meat, they had expanded even further into other areas that people need, like weaponry, tailoring, blacksmithing, mining and several others that had now become the necessary things for life.

Because of this, Sendaria led the way into a brighter and more productive future.

All in all, it had been an eventful few hundred years, and the sorcerer idly wondered what the future held for them.

'_I could tell you if you'd like_.'

Belgarath nearly fell out of his chair.


	2. Chapter 1

Finally, after far too long, chapter one.

I apologise profusely, and thank, all who reviewed and/or followed this. Your support actually means a lot to me, though I may not show it by producing a chapter every few weeks. By the way, thank you so so so much. This makes me happy that someone's actually reading my work ;)

I do not own the Belgariad, Mallorean, or any characters featured in these books. I only own any OCs (introduced in this chapter!) and the plot.

Updated on 17/03/12. Fixed dates.

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'What are _you_ doing here?' Belgarath was so surprised that he momentarily forgot he was not alone. He cursed and concentrated.

_'Looking around, checking in. I do that from time to time,'_ replied the Prophecy.

_'But why? You haven't said anything for the last thousand years.'_

_ 'Because the Codexes didn't say everything. You've grown on me, Belgarath, so I've come to warn you.'_

'Who is it?' Poledra asked. She stopped sewing up an old tunic of Belgarath's from where she was sitting near the window, in her chair.

'Prophecy,' Belgarath grunted. 'Apparently he has some more news for us.' He turned inwards again as Poledra resumed sewing. _'Really? What about?'_

_'This and that. Your survival, Belgarath, obviously. That's what it's been about from the beginning. If you had died somewhere along the line when you were around five hundred years old, everything would have fallen apart. You're still important, old man, and the Universe still needs you to do something.'_

_ 'I don't suppose you'd tell me what this "something" is, would you?'_

_ 'You know how this works, Belgarath. Even though there isn't something else working against me this time, I'm still not allowed to tell you what's going to happen. I can say, however, is that you'll need the Rivan King again. Tell him to get the Orb and talk around. You're going on another field trip, and it'll be along the same lines as the last two.'_

Belgarath groaned. Not _again_. He was getting too old for this. _'Fine. I'll see what I can do.'_

The old man glanced at Poledra before sighing. 'I'm going to Pol's. See you in a day or so.'

She barely looked up as he clambered down the tower's stairs and opened the stone door with a loud grating sound.

Once outside, Belgarath 'went wolf', as he commonly referred to it, and loped steadily in the direction of Polgara's cottage.

It took only a couple of hours to reach a hill that offered a view of the mountains that stood between Tolnedra and the Vale, with a large cottage dotted in the distance. Belgarath panted a bit and ran down to it.

A woman walked out of the cottage as the wolf approached. Her long black hair was touched at the temples with steel grey.

'Well, Old Wolf, what brings you here?' Polgara asked as Belgarath shifted back.

'Business. An old friend decided to show up again for the first time in a thousand years. Can I come in?'

She nodded and turned inside, Belgarath at her heels. 'Where are the others?' he asked.

'Durnik's out collecting wood. You know how he is about things like that. Saya and Sayu are out at the twin's. You also know how _they_ are.'

Saya and Sayu were Durnik and Polgara's children they had after returning to the Vale after the events with Zandramas. Twins seemed to run in the family, and similar names only seemed right. Belgarath got a sense of _déjà vu_ looking at them–it was Beldaran and Polgara all over again. Saya's bright golden hair and sunny smile seemed rather odd to Sayu's monotonous expression and straight black hair. But at least Sayu didn't have the hygiene problems that Polgara developed in her teens.

'But anyway, what's so important that you have to come to me, father?' Polgara sat down and stared at him with her sapphire eyes.

'Prophecy again. It wants me to go get the Rivan King–who _is_ on the throne at the moment, anyway?–and do something.'

Polgara looked as stunned as Belgarath had felt when the Prophecy had first reappeared. 'But _why_? It goes for this time and then shows up again.'

'That's what's got me confused. According to it, the Codexes didn't say anything. They only foretold up to the end of Zandrama's chapter, and apparently there's more that we need to know.' Belgarath started pacing around the dining room.

'Father, don't do that. You know it doesn't do anything useful. So what are you going to do?'

'Not much for it,' he said unhappily. 'I'll have to go to Riva and pick up whoever can use the orb.'

'Meltan,' Polgara supplied. 'Meltan's currently on the throne, and his son is Alten, who's now five.'

'All right then.' Belgarath stopped pacing. 'I just remembered. What's happened to our Garion?'

'He left the throne in the mid-5470s to his son, and from there remained largely in the background. He's still fine physically; I think he was just tired of command. I think he's currently still studying in the castle.'

Belgarath nodded. 'I'm going to go talk with Durnik. I'll be back for supper.'

'All right, father, just don't be too long. It'll be ready in a few hours.'

He walked out and started searching for the familiar presence of Durnik's mind. He found him off to the east a bit near a clump of trees, and started strolling in that direction.

Durnik, once a simple farm blacksmith, now the Man with Two Lives, was logging trees with a steel axe, despite the fact that he could far more easily have done it with his mind or one of the newly-invented chainsaws. He was a steadfast man, light fuzz growing around his chin, and Aldur's most recent disciple. He was also rather stubborn about doing things with his hands rather than with sorcery.

He was shirtless, his torso gleaming with sweat, and a silver pendant shone around his neck. "Ho, Durnik," Belgarath shouted once within earshot.

Durnik stopped for a few moments to wipe sweat of his face as the tree he was chopping wobbled precariously. "Ho, Belgarath. Fine evening."

Belgarath grunted. "Prophecy showed up again."

Now it was Durnik's turn to look surprised. "Again? What does it want this time?"

"I need to get hold of the Rivan King for something. Being what it is, it was vague, so I don't know what I have to do."

Durnik sighed. "I guess there's no helping it, is there? I'll come with you. If Pol lets me, of course."

"Still having troubles with her?" Belgarath asked slyly. "She's been around me for four thousand years before you came along, and I'm nowhere near making peace with her."

Durnik grimaced. "I still can't quite wrap my head around that one. She's five thousand, and I've got to be over a thousand years old by now. Ordinary men aren't supposed to live that long."

"But Beldurnik," Belgarath exclaimed mockingly, "You're not ordinary. You're one of us."

Durnik sighed again. "Sadly. Anyway, let's head inside after I'm done with this tree. Pol's probably got supper ready."

It took Durnik only another twenty minutes to fell the tree he was working on, then another hour to split it. Afterwards, he managed to convince Belgarath – after a lot of wheedling – to help him carry it back to the cottage.

They were both sweating by the time they walked through the door. Polgara was standing in front of her stove, stirring a steaming pot of something.

"Just in time," was all Pol said before scooping out generous servings of the stew into wooden bowls and passing them to the men with some bread.

They made small talk over supper, Belgarath having said the important news already. They agreed to leave for Riva tomorrow morning, the three of them, and leaving Saya and Sayu with Belkira and Beltira.

They cuahgt up with what they had all done over the last few years, and it wasn't until midnight before Polgara and Durnik decided to retire for the night, leaving Belgarath a mattress in the living room.

Belgarath drifted off to sleep quickly, anxious to get this particular problem sorted out before he lost too much sleep.


End file.
